Joseph Lewis - Halcyon

“…said…mess… clean…” The officer whimpered and gasped. “It hurts.”

“I know, kid.” Syfax grabbed the woman’s arm and tugged her away from her partner. “Have you seen a wound like that before?”

She nodded as the tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Then you know he’s only got a little time left. We can’t save him.”

She nodded again.

“But we can help him.” He raised his eyebrows to emphasize the word help.

Her eyes went wide. “No, we can’t!”

“Look at him again,” Syfax said. “He’s all torn up, his insides are burning, his arms and legs are shaking, and he’s coughing up blood. It’s the right thing to do.”

“It’s…okay,” the man whispered. “Please.”

The sergeant pulled back, sat down against the wall, and covered her eyes. Syfax knelt by the young man’s shoulders and took his head in his lap. The major whispered to him, “Look to your left.”

The officer turned his head and mumbled, “Thanks, sir.”

“On the count of three. Okay?” Syfax placed one hand on the youth’s cheek and the other hand on the back of his head, and pulled sharply. “Three.”

The young man went limp and the sergeant wailed softly at his feet. Syfax closed the man’s eyes and backed away from the alley, leaving the sergeant with her dead comrade in the shadows.

I can’t believe I had to do that. Again. Syfax took a deep breath and tasted the iron and copper tang of blood that hung heavy in the sultry air. These people better pray I don’t catch up to them in some dark alley.

He meant to give her a full minute while he considered his options. After ten seconds, he leaned over her and said, “Sergeant, I need a horse. Now.”

The sergeant nodded and staggered away from the alley, stared around at the empty street for a moment, and then set out to the right. Syfax followed close at her side. “Sergeant, I need your help. I need you to tell me everything you know about this Captain Aknin. Friends, relations, politics, vices, money problems, family problems.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” She sniffed. “I only transferred here last month. I don’t really know anything about her.”

“What about her work? Her routine? Her habits?” He tried to keep his voice low, to avoid barking at her. “Where does she eat? Where does she make the most arrests? Where does she avoid going? What policies has she set for your station? Anything strange at all?”

“Wait.” The sergeant stopped in the middle of the street with a frown.

Syfax crossed his arms and tried to dig the answer out of her head by staring at it. Come on kid, spit it out. He glanced down the road. You really can’t think and walk at the same time? We’ve got killers on the loose. “Well?”

She nodded. “The old tombs down near the beach, along the north shore. When I first started here last month, she had me doing patrols out there to make sure no one was squatting in the mausoleums. Half of them have been broken open by thieves and sometimes people sleep in them now. I’ve had to toss a few people out. The area is too large for the caretaker to watch all of it himself. But last week, Captain Aknin started doing the patrols herself. She said it was too important to let us do it.” The sergeant peered up at him. “That’s strange, isn’t it?”

“Great work, kid.” He beamed as he grabbed her shoulders and got her walking again. “Now get me that horse.”

The stable wasn’t far and the hostler proved a light sleeper. Moments later, Syfax was in the saddle and galloping away with the sergeant still negotiating for the horse on behalf of the Port Chellah police force. When Syfax arrived at the airfield, Kenan stepped out of the Halcyon ’s gondola to stare at the horse. “Major?”

Syfax reined up beside him. “Give your gun to the pilot.”

“My gun?” Kenan frowned over his shoulder at the woman in the cockpit. “Yes, sir.” Two soft snaps released his belt and holster, the heavy revolver dangling from the thick leather strap like a hanged man. Kenan ducked back into the cabin and shoved the belt at Taziri. “The major said to give this to you.”

“What?” The pilot took the belt with a glare and strode out into the night air. “What do I need a gun for? What’s going on?”

Syfax shrugged. “I don’t know what’s going on, Ohana, but people are still getting killed so I don’t want anyone getting on or off that airship until I get back. You’re in charge until then. Kenan, get up here.”

The corporal swung up onto the horse behind Syfax.

Syfax said, “Listen, all I know is that someone in Tingis sent a telegram to the police captain here, and then she killed one of her own officers less than an hour ago. Maybe Ambassador Chaou and the captain are working together. Either way, killing folks in the service is a bad sign.” Syfax paused. “Ohana, if I don’t come back for some reason, I want you to fly straight back to Tingis and report everything that happened tonight to the Marshal General yourself, in person. Understood?”

Taziri looked at the gun belt in her hand, held some distance away from her body. “I’ve never shot anyone before.”

“Hopefully, that won’t change tonight.” Syfax snapped the reins and the horse bolted across the grassy field and onto a cobblestone lane.

Kenan held on to the major as the dark faces of the houses and market stalls flowed past them, leaping into view beneath the streetlamps and vanishing into the shadows a moment later. “Sir? What’s the plan?”

“I hate this crap. Why can’t it just be a straight fight? Why does it always have to be a chase? Huh?” Syfax raised his voice over the clattering of the hooves on the paving stones. “Plan? Arrest Chaou and Aknin. And anyone else working with them.”

“Like who? More police officers?”

“I don’t know. Anyone. Chaou could have contacts or partners in every town in the country. She has money and influence, and she travels everywhere. She’s the worst type of suspect to nail down. All we know is her bodyguard is a terrorist, and Port Chellah’s chief of police just killed a fellow officer for her. Right now, everyone’s a suspect.”

“Are you saying…the Marshal General? The military? The governors?” Kenan asked. “We can’t suspect everyone. That’s paranoid. That’s crazy.”

“Yeah, it is. But that’s the job.”

“So where are we going now?”

Syfax grinned. “A necropolis.”

After only a few wrong turns, they found their way out of the winding maze of the residential neighborhoods and down to the coastal road that shadowed the rail line. Passing the last few brick warehouses, their windows shattered and foundations bristling with weeds and uncut grass, Syfax turned his mare onto a narrow side street that angled down across the tracks to a flat gravelly strip of earth just behind the first few grassy dunes. The street became a winding lane that followed the contours of the land, weaving side to side with an occasional glimpse of the sparkling darkness of the ocean to their left beyond the dunes.

The first tomb stood on their right where the paved lane became a sandy path. It rose like a man-made hill of earth and stone, a round foundation sloping up to a rough cone covered in loose earth and a few wisps of grass shuddering in the wind. Syfax circled the tomb and found the only entrance still sealed with ancient stones and mortar. “Not here.” He kicked the mare into yet another mad dash along the edge of the beach.

Flanking the path were several crumbling stone columns covered in ancient carvings that could no longer be read, except for the vague human figures drawn near the bases. They rode beneath broad stone arches and petrified timbers suspended between the columns, and above the trees to their right the occasional broken tower stood black against the starry sky. A wolf howled and Syfax felt Kenan twisting around behind him, no doubt looking for the animal.